turning depression into art

August 26, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

a little in my own head
a little outward reaching
a little writing for an audience
a little writing for just myself.

i spent years trying to quiet
the cacophony of my mind
and now i find
i’d love to hear just a tad of it
again;
the thoughts racing each other
to the finish line of my mind
my fingers scrambling to keep up
every moment a passing thought
could pass me by
so i sat by
and wrote,
caught
as i could
a word here
a concept there
and it made me feel
important
it made me feel
artistic
it made me feel
invincible
it made me feel
somehow
more.

and when the thoughts disappeared
when my head was no longer too much
but, instead, not enough
a blankness surrounded in mysterious anxious feeling
the emptiness louder than any giant conglomeration of too-much-thought
ever was…

i’m in-between now
the thoughts are fairly loud
but they’re not all-encompassing
nor would i call them a cacophony;
i still have moments of blankness
that scare me
surrounded by anxiety,
flitting worries,
depression,
but overall it’s much better than it was
(but i do miss
the racing
the hugeness
the cacophony
the need to get everything out in writing
that desperation;
it was like a friend.)

~~~

craft the words
pull them towards
needing to express
needing to relax
deep breaths
four counts
(why does that make me feel like i’m drowning)

~~~

my sleek black panther of a cat
with nary a speck of other color on her
(save for the bright amber-yellow of her eyes)
has developed
four
white whiskers
but only on her right side

and i suppose it’s a sign of aging
and i suppose i should take it as a natural indication of time
passing
and i suppose i should admit she’s getting old

but she still chases nothings
like a kitten
and yells at us
all day
and climbs on top of us
like she’s less than the ten-pound bowling ball she’s become
and meows and purrs on my lap
starved for attention
most mornings
and acts
in most fashions
like she’ll never grow up

and i love her so.

August 24, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

went to sleep in a Mood™
woke up in a Whole Other Mood™
and i’m realizing how reliant i am on
the negative talk and self-sabotage and executive dysfunction
to truly be the blame for when things go wrong,
so when i am happy, when i do actually put forth the effort
to try to do things right,
and if circumstances just happen to breed the same outcome…
the low-key self-hatred,
the kind i can ignore away
because it’s always there
becomes loud
becomes bites with teeth
and those teeth are the “proof” from the external factors
which i know, logically, are circumstantial,
or i could have done something to change, but i literally didn’t know at the time
but damn if that bite isn’t sharp and deep
deep
deep down to my soul
till i start to believe the fanged monster
when they say
truly
no one loves you
and you are to blame
[look at all this proof]

~~~

and now we have the decision-making,
the ‘do i put this up on my site or not’-ing.
i’m truly fine;
i’m an adult, so i don’t have those crazy teen-hormones running around my brain and bloodstream
begging me to do something rash,
something stupid,
something irreversible.
and i am nothing if not an overthinker,
i can see the consequences of each and every action i might take
from here inside myself to externally to those i love
to forward moving in the future
and even back-ward looking to color the past

but that overthinking and knowing i’m too intellectual to actually do anything about anything
makes for even more frustration in the moment
there’s no outlet
no doing anything
just writing sad poetry
and waiting it all out…

so i guess
don’t take this as a plea for help
just take this in as my brain working some shit out.

~~~

just go read your own writing
maybe you’ll like yourself
one day

August 23, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the highs
the lows
the devastation
the celebration
the joy
the sorrow
the feeling hapless and hopeless to ever find anything to fix this
and wanting to hold onto it, keep in it, feeling safe inside of it
and yet
(and yet)
knowing that finding healing will make my life better,
open doors i didn’t even know were there,
burst open a way to make beauty out of the anguish
(because, hasn’t that been the goal all along?
isn’t that why you[i] always [used to] say things like
‘i went through this
i can help you through this…’
putting forth all your[my] effort
to bring others up
when you[i] felt down?
why acting and poetry and art in general
are the aspiration
the hope
the dream that keeps you[me] around?
(well, that and spouse and cat and dog))

feel them
remember them
but understand them
and don’t think of them
as forever.

August 8, 2021

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finding the perfect music station
is an art
(one i’m not nearly as familiar with
as my spouse)
and so when i’m doing my morning pages/poems
without them
(because sleep is a necessity)
and have to find some morning tunes
on my own
i never land on
what i initially think i’ll land on…

at least there’s coffee.

~~~

so hungry
but i’m not used to eating while writing
i eat and suddenly i want
passive entertainment
it seems this old dog needs to learn a couple new tricks

~~~

if i leave
and come back
will i keep the thread of morning poetry?

~~~

fed,
caffeinated,
[not yet watered],
and i feel so much better able to
really get into these here morning page poems

is this what i *should* be doing each morning?
instead of simply sipping coffee
and waiting until after i write to eat my breakfast?

or is this simply a daily thing
that changes around
and adjusts
as my own outlook
and mood
and level of tiredness
adjusts
day
by
day
by
day
?

~~~

i mean, if i’m going to be writing a million small poems
(and by a million, let’s be honest and say probably six)
might as well just
truly
go for it.

~~~

the nerves are starting to settle in
about class later on today
(this is why i enjoyed having a circus class prior to acting class
yes, i never got to nap,
but i also never spent half the day worrying about/obsessing over my performance)

i like how our teacher sets up the class
you perform, and then she asks what goals you had for that particular scene or monologue
and this week i’m simply hoping to continue the work
that suddenly broke free two weeks ago.
i want to breathe into the monologue,
i want to be in the moment,
and i want to use my own self-loathing
to create art
instead of beating myself down all the time.

and yes, the ultimate goal is health
and possibly, someday, not constantly feeling like the most worthless hunk of flesh on the planet,
but while that’s what it’s like in my brain,
might as well be honest
and use it to connect with this character i’ve been [not so secretly] wanting to play for ages,
and maybe if i can connect while i’m in the throes of
not-so-great mental health
maybe that means i can find my way in
when i am in a healthier mental state
remember the physical sensations
without being too harsh…

maybe?

but today isn’t about how to get there down the road
that’s not the goal today;
it’s to be in the present
to breathe into the moment
to know that i have all this inside me
and relax
and trust
and simply let myself shine through.

June 4, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i think
i put things off
as a way to prove
that i am,
in fact,
a horrible person.

i am aware
that technically
this issue
stems directly
from depression:
‘executive dysfunction’

but that doesn’t stop me from observing myself
outside in
seeing the things i put off
the things i actually do
and making an educated guess.

and yes,
of course,
the depression absolutely affects the way(s) in which i view myself
and not only would i not have this executive dysfunction
if i didn’t have the depression
i also wouldn’t have such a low opinion of myself

but somehow i’ve decided that the two are linked
and that the effect is the cause, and the cause is the effect
because i can’t just see it as simple brain chemistry,
a result of this battle that’s been raging
in my brain
for years

that would be too easy
too simple
and it takes the blame off of my choices and actions
it puts those things out of my control
and if there’s one thing i have more of
than depression/anxiety
it’s control issues

so
instead
i’ve decided
that my executive dysfunction is not this ‘hard-to-quantify
direct mis-firing of neurons
in my brain’,
but instead it stems from my self-esteem
and my desire to be a good person
but ‘knowing’
deep down
that i am the actual worst
my worthlessness showing up
in my inactions

and that way i can blame my depression
as well as my whole sense of self.

May 23, 2021

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i feel so disconnected from myself
but i’ve had so many selves over the past 27+ years
am i disconnected from all of my selves
or just the most recent?
(because if we’re being brutally honest,
this is pretty close to the self that i had in late high school/early college,
complete with internal struggles
and external outbursts
and not connecting with anyone the way i might have wanted
or needed)
but i can’t place my finger on what’s different…
is it that i have better coping mechanisms?
is it that i have kip?
is it that i have beings to care for?
(and even then, there’s something stale and over-done in all of this,
even within the difference…)
i feel that need for a change,
the way i only get when i’m frustrated and groping for something to hold on to.
this would be the perfect time to get that tattoo;
i’ve been pondering it for the last five years,
so it wouldn’t be a stupid/rash/spontaneous decision
but it would probably fulfill my urges towards self harm
(but in a healthier way, and isn’t that what we want?
we can’t necessarily get rid of all our coping mechanisms
but we can choose the healthier[est] of the options…)

what i want
more than anything
is to be a kid again
to explore the woods behind our property
and feel like i have no expectations on me,
feel like i still have my entire life ahead of me,
because, damn, i’ve felt like most of my life has been over
since i was fifteen/sixteen,
and it hasn’t been true yet,
so why do i keep acting like it is.

April 24, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

why does my soul
and heart
and body
ache for adventure
when my brain
and my eyes
and my entire psyche
long to nap until i might feel
truly
awake again?

do i really need to rest until i feel up to adventuring again?
(not that many adventures are happening right now, in the time of the ‘rona)
and if that’s the case,
is this the indication that,
even though my days are spent lazing around
doing ‘nothing,’
that ‘nothing’
isn’t as relaxing as i once thought?

i’ve been made aware
that resting while feeling guilt about resting
is not truly resting.
is this why that,
even though i’ve been alive
twenty-seven plus years
i don’t know that i’ve ever felt truly rested?
because, whether i’m performing ten shows a week,
or have literally nothing on my schedule
for the foreseeable future,
i always have these murmurs of
“i should be doing something”
“a nap would be nice right now…”
“i should be doing something”
“maybe i could just close my eyes for a hot second”
“i should be doing something”
“another coffee, maybe?”
“i should be doing something”
“why doesn’t this wake me up like it used to?”
“i should be doing something”

or, i suppose, that exhaustion could simply be the
depression.

whatever it is,
it’s low key,
i know people/friends/acquaintances/family
with invisible illnesses
with constant pain and exhaustion
that does not leave them alone
that requires them take a nap
as soon as the feeling hits them,
that forces their eyes closed
which no amount of coffee or energy drink or caffeine pill or anything
could ever prevent.
mine is not that.
it feels like a quiet undercurrent,
some days i can ignore it so much, it goes away
(usually when i’m busy with other things)
other days i do end up napping on the couch for over an hour.
but it’s a whisper
not a shout
it’s a gentle tug towards sleep
not a full out body slam down onto whatever surface is nearby
it’s the existential exhaustion of being alive
in a world that kind of sucks
and your anxiety never lets go of your awareness of it.

it’s probably the depression.

February 5, 2021

/ HJ / Leave a comment

running out to the sidewalk
big chunks of snow falling
pockmarking the small white hills,
the yellow of a taxi cab
shining
in the not-quite-twilight of
5:45 pm
on a february friday,
the haze of pink-ish-purple
lighting the sky
in that way that
only an NYC dusk truly can,
my eyes adjusting to clearer vision,
happy
(for once)
to exist.